Restrained Infinity
by Unsuspected
Summary: Details. It seems they always go unnoticed, or get forgotten about. Ron/Hermione drabble collection.
1. Like

He did not like her mass of hair or her brown eyes. He did not like the way she was constantly reciting books, and he did not like her overbite. He did not like her bossy voice or her too-loud laugh. He did not like in the slightest bit the way she would argue with him until she ran out of breath. He did not like her know-it-all-ness. He did not like the way she knew nothing about Quidditch, but pretended to anyway.

He hardly even _liked_ her. And Ronald Weasley certainly did not like Hermione Granger in _that_ way

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><p><strong>AN: I had to write it eventually, you know. And to be honest, it was fun. I enjoy drabbles.<strong>


	2. Kiss

Shell Cottage. Bill's place.

She said she was scared, in a whisper, to him alone. A secret. He said he was, too.

And she smiled, just a bit.

And she kissed him, right then. A proper kiss, too. Not even on the cheek.

He was shocked, to say the least. So he tried not to feel to bad about his immediate response being, "Er, thanks."

And she apologized, and told him that it really wasn't the time, and that she was sorry.

So he was definitely quite surprised when she kissed him once more in the middle of a battle.

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><p><strong>AN: So, at the request of livingondaydreams, I'll be writing <em>all<em> the Ron/Hermione.**


	3. That Quarter Inch of Space

Maybe it was subconscious, but it seemed that his hand had strayed toward hers. They both seemed very pale—ghostly, almost. They seemed very isolated, too. Very alone. Very fragile.

She was shivering, and he wondered if she was awake, too. He wondered if her eyes had somehow wandered to the quarter inch of space between their outstretched fingertips, if she was thinking exactly the same things he was.

And just for that instant, six years of uncertainty are forgotten, six years of awkwardness and bickering and avoidance were completely thrown aside. And ever-so-suddenly, he takes her hand in his.

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><p><strong>AN: You can probably expect several variations of this same scene. But not <em>quite<em> yet. Just eventually.**


	4. Jealous

They were kissing—his best mate and his little sister!

And that surely explained the bitterness toward the situation. Anyone would be upset by that. That was obviously it. Nothing more.

Not jealousy. Definitely not jealous. Why would he be jealous? He didn't want to kiss anyone. He'd had plenty of _that_ with Lavender, thanks very much.

Okay, maybe he was a bit jealous.

And maybe he would be more than okay with it if he'd had the same luck with the girl standing beside him, the one with the bushy hair and triumphant grin.

He wasn't jealous.

Definitely not.

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><p><strong>AN: Merry Christmas! Or happy holidays. Either way, thanks very much for reading.<strong>


	5. Different

Fleur Delacour.

There's something about her. Different. But nice. Definitely nice.

Maybe he could ask her to the Ball, but—

There's someone else he might like to ask.

And she—she isn't at all different. Her overbite and her bushy hair and her bossy voice—that's quite familiar indeed.

But asking _her_ to the Ball, well, that wouldn't be the same at all would it? _That_ would be different.

That single doubt is just enough to push every thought of asking Hermione Granger to the Ball right out of his head.

At least long enough for him to ask Fleur.

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><p><strong>AN: So, the "overbite" bit might not be 100% accurate, considering the whole teeth-shrinking incident, but I don't think anyone really noticed for a while, so... This was fairly hard to write with only one hundred words. Hopefully you can't tell.<strong>


	6. Hope

They took her.

She's being tortured.

And he can't do a single thing about it.

He tried. He pleaded, he screamed, he put up a fight.

But he can't help her.

She's going to die, he knows it.

Because that's Bellatrix Lestrange torturing her. And it's only so long before she snaps.

But he calls for her anyway.

"HERMIONE!"

By now he's lost count of how many times he has said it. He thinks maybe, somehow, whatever small bit consciousness she has left hears him, and maybe those four syllables are the same ray of hope they are for him.

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><p><strong>AN: So, hurrah for simple sentence structure. It seems to be my thing with Ron. Thanks for reading. (:<strong>


	7. Ridiculous

It was silly.

Ridiculous.

She was Hermione. And he was Ron.

It was stupid.

But when she kissed him, just on the cheek, he nearly forgot how to breathe.

Because that was the last thing he was expecting. The last thing in the world.

He couldn't believe it at all.

Because that was not them. That couldn't be them. That could never be them.

But it was, just for that moment.

She kissed him on the cheek, and his heart stopped just for that fraction of a second and she dashed off.

Well, he couldn't say that it bothered him.

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><p><strong>AN: Of course, from <em>Order of the Phoenix<em>. I might write some more from around that time, because I have an interesting idea for it at the moment.**


	8. Cooking

Cooking, it turned out, was surprisingly like riding a broomstick—impossible to master using books alone.

And Hermione therefore positively detested it.

Ron, however, seemed to adore it nearly as much as he enjoyed to enjoy the finished product.

So long as he caused a fair bit of chaos along the way, it seemed.

After all, he always seemed to be dragging her into it, as though she'd suddenly become some sort of expert. Like somehow his insistence that she join in on the torture that was cooking could make her a world-class chef.

(But it was _sort of_ enjoyable.)

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><p><strong>AN: So, probably not my best. But I finally wrote (sort of) in Hermione's perspective. And fluff. Which are likely the reasons why this isn't top-notch. But thank you for reading. (:<strong>


	9. Alive

She's breathing. She's still breathing. You're still breathing. You're all breathing. You're all still here. You're all alive.

And even though Dumbledore's been killed, you have never felt more relieved in your life.

Because you were not supposed to have fought. And you were most certainly not supposed to have lived.

But all of you—every last one. Ginny and Luna and Harry and Neville. And yes, even Hermione. Mum and Dad and everyone. All of you.

And it's a good thing, too, because you've never been as brave as Harry, and you don't know if you could bear it.

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><p><strong>AN: That last line, to be clear, was not me talking. I adore Ron. This one isn't as romance-y as the previous ones. Hopefully you enjoyed it anyway.<strong>


	10. Odd

You've always found her a bit odd.

Well, more than a bit, really. You've known she's positively insane since you first met her.

Her mothering ways and her more-than-slight obsession with books and all of that—

And the hair didn't really help her case.

Eleven years old, and it was already extraordinarily obvious that she was different.

Eighteen years old and you're absolutely _positive_ that Hermione Granger is different.

And she's kept her mothering ways and her obsession with books and (for the most part) her bushy hair.

(And here's something different indeed—you just might love her for it.)

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading!<strong>


	11. Muggle Money

"So this is it then?" he said, closely examining the paper.

"What did you expect for us to pay with? Asparagus perhaps?"

"It'd make more sense than a piece of paper. Last longer."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm not the one who uses slips of paper to buy things."

"What about that foreign wizard at the World Cup? Should we pay with pieces of gold the size of hubcaps?"

"You should pay with something that lasts."

"It does last."

"Longer than our money?"

"Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"With paper money?"

"No," she sighed, "not with Muggle money."

"Thank god."

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><p><strong>AN: This could easily become a oneshot, but I know that if I say it will, it won't, because I'm just that pathetic sometimes. (I <em>am<em> starting an outline on something that may or not happen that may involve something like this, but with a different ending for reasons that would be obvious if you were to read the fic. But again, I won't say it's actually going to happen.) Aaand also sorry for the long wait and somewhat pathetic piece. It seems to have become a regular thing with me, a habit I'm hoping to stop. Oh! And this is for Kelly. _Sorry_.**


	12. Happy Birthday

"Happy birthday!"

"Dad! Mine's the best!"

"Well, obviously, Hugo, since I picked it out—"

"You did not! Mum—"

"You worked together."

"Well, Hugo ran into Honeyd—Well, here, Dad."

"Don't suppose you got it from Honeydukes?"

"Rosie spoiled it!"

"Just a lucky guess."

"Ha!"

"Awfully happy for a person who just gave away… Bertie Bott's."

"It's not like I eat them. Too much vomit, not nearly enough strawberry."

"That's the fun of it! Have one."

"Ron, they're yours."

"You and Rose, two of a kind you are."

"I'll have theirs if they—"

"Fine."

"If mine's earwax—"

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><p><strong>AN: I had to write <em>something<em> for Ron's birthday. And with Kelly's prompt of "jelly beans" this happened. Thanks for reading.**


	13. Coward

(Coward.)

No, no. Not you.

(Useless, pitiful coward.)

_Please_.

(She'll never feel that way. Not about you.)

No.

(And you—you do nothing.)

You can be brave. You know you can. Somehow. You're a Gryffindor for god's sake.

(A pathetic excuse for one.)

No. Just for a second. You can be brave. You promise yourself.

(The same day she looks at you as anything other that what you are—an idiot, a coward, no one, nothing at all.)

No.

You—you can't.

You have to leave.

At least she'll be happy, happier at least, without you.

(Nothing but a coward.)

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><p><strong>AN: For Kelly because it's her birthday, but this is not her birthday fic. Her birthday fic will be much better than this, I hope. But angst is nice, yes? Angst is very nice.<strong>


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